


Of Vests and Men

by Ivy_in_the_Garden



Category: Cain Saga and Godchild
Genre: Dark Humor, Footnotes, Humor, M/M, Mild Sexual Humor, Missing Scene, written in the style of Terry Pratchett
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-04-01
Updated: 2016-04-01
Packaged: 2018-05-30 13:59:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6426619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ivy_in_the_Garden/pseuds/Ivy_in_the_Garden
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alexis and Cassandra have a chat, before the start of the "Castrato" arc.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Vests and Men

**Author's Note:**

> I strongly suggest you read the footnotes to this one. It's intentionally written in the style of Terry Pratchett, who died too young. It's rated for mild sexual humor.

It was a day much like any other for Delilah. Alexis straightened his vest, irked that he had not bothered to find a valet, in the five years he had been in hiding. It was ill-becoming of an earl to have to dress himself, and if Alexis hated anything more than his children, it was honest work. There was a reason that he was the Cardmaster—and it was not just the cape.

He looked up from his intricate plans for plunging London into a thousand-year darkness when Ida announced the Hierophant's visit. "Cassandra. So marvelous to see you alive, er, in good health, again. What brings you here?"

Cassandra frowned at this bizarre wording, but being mercifully unaware of Dr. Zenopia's research, decided to think nothing more on it.1 "One of your sons has recently caught my eye."2

"It's not Cain, is it? I do fear for him sometimes: the boy can't even tie his own shoelaces. He missed that developmental milestone." Alexis shook his head in disappointment, before gesturing towards his box of tobacco. "Care to join me?"

"No, thank you. I only partake when I have committed a crime."

Alexis shrugged and lit his pipe. "I find that waiting to enjoy the finer things in life leaves one's soul wanting."

"Truly, Cardmaster." Cassandra decided to press on, sensing an opening.3 "Jizabel is one of those finer things you speak of. I should like to take him back to my place in London."

"Why ever should you like to do that," Alexis asked, fully aware of the answer, as he had read Cassian's report about sexual harassment only an hour ago. Still, it was so continental to presume.

"To play sexual dress-up."

Alexis paused, his suspicion confirmed. "My son? You desire my son for your, er, sexual games?"

"Precisely." Cassandra leaned onto the table, grinning. "I have a torture device custom-tailored to his proportions. I'll—We'll really enjoy ourselves."

A look of careful contemplation came over Alexis. "How did you acquire those measurements?"

"He gave them to me," Cassandra lied. "Said he was looking forward to spending time in my bed."

"Well, that changes everything." Alexis chuckled. "A torture device? My word, what you chaps get up to."

"Oh _yes_. I have a entire collection of torture devices that I should like to show him."

Alexis leaned back. "My word, how queer. Back in my day, sleeping with one's sister was scandalous."

Cassandra momentarily panicked at the notion of being trapped with Alexis for the next half hour as he ranted about the Hargreaves family curse.4 "I have a prior engagement in Manchester," he began as quickly as politeness would dictate. "Charity work, you see. Orphans and widows and the like."

"I see. Must keep the _hoi polloi_ pacified. Ida will see you out, then."

Cassandra was halfway across the room when Alexis called to him.

"Wait, Cassandra."

Cassandra paused, suspecting that whatever vestige of paternal affection Alexis still possessed was surfacing. He quietly regretted telling him about his plans to introduce Jizabel to his torture dungeon. Resolving to select more appropriate confidants, he turned, carefully composed.

"I have a bit of advice. The vest makes the man, as the proverb goes, and yours is most out of date." Alexis proceeded to pour himself a glass of wine. "Now, I have the address for a tailor in London who designs the most elegant of vests.5 We have an obligation to the lower classes to show them the height of Victorian fashion, do we not?  _Nobilesse oblige_ , and all that."

Cassandra examined his own vest. True, his was a bit pallid compared to Alexis's, which were always so terribly nice in their patterns that defied both sensibility and color schemes.  

"Very well," he agreed. "Send it to my valet."

How fortunate that he had decided to join Delilah.

* * *

 

**Footnotes**

  1. That was a grave error. The way the Hermit kept asking invasive questions and taking samples of his blood should have tipped him off earlier.
  2. And his hand, unfortunately for Jizabel.
  3. That was his problem, of course. He was too focused on getting into men that he never considered the consequences. Like blackmail or venereal disease or waking up in an operating room with a shaved head.
  4. It was an unfounded fear. Alexis had recently lengthened it to at least an hour, now that he had new material to work with. True, it was largely about the family curse, but with an added emphasis on Cain's wayward behavior and Jizabel's inability to dress himself properly. The boy sincerely thought yellow and green matched.
  5. He sent the bills to the main Hargreaves house. One couldn't be bothered with such petty inconveniences as bills when one planned to bring about the end of the world.  



**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by a dear friend's observation that Cassandra and Alexis share the same terrible taste in vests. The "Castrato" arc leaves me with so many questions, like how did Cassandra acquire Jizabel's proportions and how did they discover Cassandra was a suitable match. 
> 
> Thank you for reading, as always. Let me know what you thought, if you'd like!


End file.
